


The Winchester Shorts: Of Doritos and Destiel

by madasahatter (gaytriangle)



Category: Gravity Falls (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, First Kiss, M/M, bill related shenanigans, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 17:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytriangle/pseuds/madasahatter
Summary: Dean wanted one day off. One. Was that too much to ask? Sammys fun tv suggestion leads to demon dealing when the cartoonish demon Bill Ciphers sigil turns out to be very, very real.





	The Winchester Shorts: Of Doritos and Destiel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thebicirclegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebicirclegirl/gifts).

Tuesdays. Why was it always Tuesdays?

It had been week after week of painful, pedantic hunts, that took too much time and too little effort. Dean was climbing the walls, sick of vampires and ghouls and minor bloody possessions when there were demons coming out their ears and Cas wasn’t even around to lend a hand. So, when Sam nigh on locked the two of them in the “Dean Cave” (rude, Sammy, it’s not like you’re locked out or anything) to watch cartoons, yeah, he leapt at the chance. 

Gravity Falls, according to Sam, was a fairly harmless kids cartoon. He had seen a handful of episodes in one motel or another, and the main villain was so outlandish that it didn’t even tickle at his sixth sense for danger. So, for the entirety of season one, Cas and Dean sat five inches apart on a perilously small loveseat and “_relaxed_”.

That lasted until half way through season two. Half way through season two, they showed the summoning sigil for Bill Cipher for the first time. Bill Cipher, outlandish and over the top and utterly cartoonish?

Bills summoning sigil is nigh-on-fucking-identical to the sigil for a high level dream demon. 

Deans stomach drops to the ground and begins sinking through his feet while his heart does loop the loops (and not the fun kind, not the Cas kind or the pie kind or the we-survived-somehow kind). The room feels small, with the TV muted and the heavy knowledge that there might be a real demon at play. Sam took the opportunity presented by the silence and walked in. 

“You guys done? Cause, uh, there have been some weird things happening on the west coast at the minute. Murders, natural disasters, screwed up animals, the whole nine yards. I think we should check it out.”

“Let me guess,” says Dean, in a resigned tone. “Blue fire?”

~

Sam catches them up on the way over. Apparently, Bill Cipher (or someone acting like him, why couldn’t it be someone just pretending to be an all powerful fictional character for once) had been jumping from California to Washington and everywhere in between, setting off wildfires, murdering people in repetitive, twisted ways (yellow eyes, honestly, how can a quick possession leave the victim with yellow eyes?) and torturing wildlife. His sigil pops up everywhere in photos from the area - graffiti, logos, cloud patterns, little innocuous things you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking. Only this morning, there had been a slew of deer with extra eyes instead of ears in Oregon, so the trio blinked over there on angel airlines. 

“Do you think this is a good idea, Dean?” Sam worried the edge of his flannel shirt. “We don’t exactly know how to contain him.”

“We have Cas,” Dean pointed out. “And I don’t think any amount of research is going to tell us how to defeat a fictional demon.”

Cas shifted from foot to foot as Sammy lit the last of the candles. He began to chant - ‘eyegniee sllahoreh picllibho suotemoc, eyegniee sllahoreh picllibho suotemoc, eyegniee sllahoreh picllibho suotemoc” - and in probably the creepiest thing Dean had ever seen in all his years of saving people and hunting things, the colour began to leech out of the world. 

It began slowly, at first. He didn’t even notice until the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Even as the chant continued, the rest of the ambient noise simply stopped. No birds. No insects. Even the rustling of fabric seemed muffled, as if the physical world was suddenly very far away. Then the colours went. Bright ones, at first, the red of his flannel and the green of the grass. In the heartbeat it took for him to look around in alarm, even the subtle ones went, like the blue of Cas’ eyes and the tussled brown of Sammys’ hair. His brothers’ voice shook as he chanted, but he didn’t slip up, not even as a garishly bright yellow eye _opened_ in front of them. 

“Well well well,” says the eye, somehow, with a reverb worthy of a professional edit. “What do I have here? An angel, a knight of hell, and a demon blood addict- ooh, this’ll be fun! What could you three possibly want with little old me?” A spindly, two dimensional arm stuck out of the eye, and with a cartoonish zipping noise, the rest of Bills body appeared. Cartoon accurate, down to the little bow tie. 

Sam went white, standing up and stumbling back a little for Cas to steady him. Dean was a bit busy staring at the paper thin form of the demon - he was invisible from the side! How does that even work!

“Magic, flannel the lesser. And are you calling me flat?” Bill clutched his chest, making a small, crooning noise, like a kicked puppy. Static ebbed and flowed around his words, the only movement in this timeless place. He devolved into giggles as he took in their expressions, though. “I’m a dream demon, kiddos. Of course I can read your thoughts. Don’t worry, I ignore most of it.” He lingered on the word most, eyeing up Cas speculatively. 

Dean shivered involuntarily. “How is three lines coloured gold so damn creepy?”

“Technically, he’s seven lines, Dean,” said Cas. “Don’t forget the tie.”

“Feathers gets it!” Bill floated over to Cas with manic glee in his voice, then clicked his fingers. Cas’ perfectly normal tie was replaced, in a flicker of cyan fire, with a blue flannel bow tie. Dean shot them both a dirty look. 

“If you’re that uncomfortable with me, flannel, I can change clothes. What to wear, what to wear...” The demon began to... flicker, almost. His shape was changing too fast to register, until it settled into something sickeningly familiar. No, not something - someone. 

“Fairly tall, always in flannel, reeks of feathers over there... family, did I find? Like me better like this, boys?” Bills golden eyes seemed wrong on Claire’s face, her flaxen hair rendered in metallic perfection, the demonic grin on her face - it was all wrong. Dean snuck a glance at Cas.

The angel had both his fists clenched. His jaw was tight, and the faint crackle of ozone showed that, if he dared glance behind, two huge, shadowed wings would be visible over the muted evening light. “Get out of her.”

“Yeesh, no need to be testy. Are they always like this, moosey?” Bill turned to Sam, utterly ignoring the other pair, and falling out of Claire’s skin like she was an onesie he had decided to unzip. It was much, much more unsettling than the usual shapeshifter method of changing. 

Sam shrugged, mechanically. “Usually, worse.” 

Bill howled with laughter, so hard that he glitched a little, his edges receding into eye watering neons. He had to have read something in Sams reply that Dean didn’t. “Mortals! Always so tetchy, refusing to take what they want. You’d think feathers would know better.”

The trio stared at him. Dean bristled, and Cas looked like he wanted to question what on earth was meant. Bill stared back at them, then sighed dramatically, waving a hand. “Tough crowd. Fine. What did you summon me for?”

“We want you to stop the attacks, the possessions, all of it,” said Dean, somewhat relieved to be on familiar territory. 

“Want? You want a lot of things, Dean Winchester. I can think of a lot of things you want more than me, to stop playing with deer. One of them is standing to your left.”

“That’s not what we’re here to talk about,” says Dean, not quite able to keep his voice steady. 

“Oh, I think it is. You want me to leave the people alone? Fine. You want the wildfires to stop? Sure. You want me to leave the various orifices of mammals in their correct places? A hard sell, but I buy it.” He floated over to the pair, lazily twirling his cane, but then shoved it down, suddenly, stopping and staring at the pair of them, only an arms distance away. “But I’m a dream demon. I make dreams reality. And you two,” he said, pointing between Dean and Cas, “dream only of each other.”

“Well, and pie, but I don’t think I’ve got much power over that.”

~

Sam looked like he wanted to laugh, perhaps a little hysterically, but Dean was frozen even as the oversized Dorito winked at his brother. Cas, at his elbow, suddenly seemed to be much closer than he was a moment before, nestled right inside his personal space in a way Dean hated. (Well, hated with most people.) (With anyone that wasn’t Cas, by now.) “Dean?”

“Is that the deal then?” His voice was rough, audibly thrown, but it was hard not to be when Bill _leered_ like that. How does a single eye seem so menacing? “We deal with... our issues, you stop your bullshit, leave us alone?” (‘Dean!’ admonished Sam, from quite far away.)

Bill twirled his cane thoughtfully for a moment, then grabbed Deans hand with a forceful lunge. “Deal!”

The blue fire crept up Deans arm like ice, sweeping across his vision. It didn’t hurt, like he’d almost expected it to - most things the Winchester’s encountered hurt, one way or another. Instead, Bills fire took away all those little aches he’d grown used to, half healed scars and unfortunate twinges. He turned his head, looking at Sam and Cas, and for a split second his vision doubled, seeing them like the demon must have. 

Sammy was almost the same, a mirror of himself, if warped in a hundred tiny places - he had a symbol floating above his head, like a zodiac sign, almost, although Dean didn’t connect the stocky antlers to anything in particular. To be honest, he was focused on Cas. 

Cas looked, for there was truly no other word for it, breathtaking. He was still in the same vessel Dean had always known, but his wings were visible like this, streaking across the ground and tangling with Deans shadow, wrapping around him and keeping him as safe from harm as any Winchester could ever be. His face was screwed up in worry - how long had Dean been looking? Bill didn’t feel time in the same way- He had to say something, and now, to wipe that expression off his face. 

“I was wrong, Cas,” he said, simply. So many expressions flash across the angel- _his_ angels face, faster than a human could read. Hurt lingered. “I was wrong to call you family. You’re so much more than that.”

“Dean, I-“

“I love you.”

The split second after the words left his lips, the world seemed to freeze all over again. It was the moment before a skydive, when all you could hear is the roar of the still air and the pounding of your heart, both too slow and far too fast. Sams hand was over his mouth, Bill had a bucket of popcorn, Deans own hands were fumbling over eachother, repetitively, feeling the edges of a thousand tiny scars. He couldn’t look at Cas. He didn’t have to. 

If that moment was a skydive, the next was hitting water. Dean couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even think - it was eight years of sly glances and a friendship growing into so, so much more. When Dean was at his very limit, struggling for air and not willing to break for even a second, it was Cas that pulled back. His eyes were soft, open, like Dean had never really seen before. “That’s a human way of reciprocating, yes?”

“Yes,” said Sam, from over where he had been standing for the last - eternity? second? - in an exasperated tone. When had Bill left? “I’m overjoyed you two have your head screwed on straight, but that was the vaguest demon deal I’ve ever heard. Your angel needs to give you remedial lessons.”

For half a second, Dean wanted to throttle his baby brother. Cas piped up. “Is that another human expression, like pizza man? I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my circle girl and Tara (get an ao3)


End file.
